


What's left of me

by VolsungartheMighty



Series: Anything But This [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: God Theo, Greek Mythology - Freeform, I apologise for butchering the myths, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Past-god Liam, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-06-07 11:45:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15218450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolsungartheMighty/pseuds/VolsungartheMighty
Summary: Liam is worried. He's started having weird dreams, and he cant help but think that everything seems... familiar. But what's familiar about dreaming about Yggdrasil, the world tree?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maraudersourwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/gifts).



> So, Thank You Des for the amazing inspo for this fic. I was originally going to leave it where the previous one ended, but you gave me so much to work with. I hope you and everyone else likes it.

Liam stood in a forest.

It was no ordinary forest, that he was sure of. He’d spent his whole life roaming the forests around his home town, so he had a fair idea of what an ordinary forest looked like.

An ordinary forest, for one, did not have trees made of bone.

Secondly, why were the tree’s made from bone? It made no sense.

But he roamed the forest all the same, the creeping feeling running up his spin that someone or something was out there, watching him. His sneakers scuffed the ground, and he nearly tripped. He looked down, only to find a skull staring up at him from under a thin layer of dirt.

“Creepy” he muttered to himself, shrugging his shoulders before he continued walking, following the oh so familiar path.

Before he knew it, he stood in a clearing, larger than any clearing ought to be. It was a clearing that Liam was intimately familiar with, having played in that very same clearing many times as a child, playing games with himself, where he was the slayer of dragons and gods, a hero among men.

Suffice it to say, he hadn’t had many friends as a kid. He still didn’t, but that was something for another time.

This clearing was different, of course. The stump that usually sat in the centre was no longer a stump, but a large, foreboding tree, it’s branches reaching high into the air, higher than the tree’s around it. The ground around it was a clear, glowing crystal, and Liam could see the roots buried deep into the ground, reaching further beneath the soil than he thought possible. The trunk of the tree looked like it had been wrapped around a thick, sturdy chain, surprisingly untouched by rust and age, one end piercing the clouds like an arrow, and Liam could see, the other end tunnelling through the crystal, the roots wrapping around it tightly like a vice.

A closer look at the chain showed that it continued far beneath the surface, far away to where Liam could see a fire burning, deep beneath the surface. But that couldn’t be right, could it?

He peered further into the crystal, the image becoming larger and larger before him, before all he could see was the fire, and the monsters that dwelled within. It was like he was peering into hell, mounds of bodies piled high, each one a cacophony of screams as each was tortured beyond recognition. Wicked hell beasts, faces half creature half man, their forms warped and twisted beyond recognition of anything close to a human, taunted and jeered, poked and prodded at the piles of bodies. Liam leaned forward, trying to get a closer look, when a skeletal creature with flames for eyes, and fire burning within it’s shattered chest, smashed into the crystal, clawing and screaming, teeth clicking and biting, trying to get at Liam. He stumbled back in fright, and the image disappeared in flurry of smoke, becoming a distant sight like it had before.

“What the fuck is this place?” Liam muttered out loud, eyes sweeping the clearing. The tree’s circling the clearing seemed to be bunched much closer than they had been moments before, seeming more menacing than they had before.

Liam turned back to the tree, and the chain it was wrapped around. “You’re not the Nemeton. I’ve seen pictures of that, and your much too tall to be that. But what are you?”

A word floated through his mind, one that immediately clicked, as if it were the right name.

“Yggdrasil” he breathed out, and as the word filled the air, the bark of along the trunk seemed to shift and twist, before the trunk of the tree seemed to crack open, revealing one of the large, heavy links of the chain the tree was wrapped around, and a dark red crystal in the middle.

Curious, Liam made his way over, peering into the large gem, wondering what he would find inside.

A face not his own stared back, and before he could react, a hand was reaching out, _through_ the crystal, a ghostly, red apparition that crackled with power. The hand wrapped around Liam’s wrist and he screamed, pain coursing through his arm and body, sending him falling to his knees as pain wracked his body.

Before he blacked out, he heard the face in the gem speak in a cold, terrifying voice. _“Your task is the same. You will try to kill him, as you have always tried to kill him, and you will die.”_

Laughter filled his ears as the world turned black.

***

He awoke with a scream, limbs flailing, as he shot upright, tumbling out of bed and onto the floor.

He cut his scream off with a whimper, but not before a banging was heard on his wall. His neighbour, telling him to shut up, most likely.

The image of the dream, vision, nightmare… he didn’t know what to call it, was fading quickly, but the image of the tree, its roots buried in crystal, branches arching for the sky, the trunk split, revealing the great chain and the red gem, remained burned into his mind.

He sat up from the floor, a quick glance at his alarm clock telling him it was much too early for his liking, but he had plenty of time before he had to be anywhere. He untangled himself from the mess of sheets wrapped around his waist and legs, before leaving his room and making his way to the kitchen in search of coffee. He was back in his room moments later, warm coffee in his hands, as he sat down at his desk and pulled his sketch book towards him, opening it to a blank page, and putting pencil to page.

An hour and a half later, his alarm stirred him from his concentration, and he looked down, finding a near perfect image of the tree in his dream. He couldn’t remember much of the dream, only the image of the tree. But since he’d woken up, he’d felt… frustrated. Irritated. Even more so than he usually did. It felt like a burning itch that he couldn’t scratch, and with every moment he didn’t scratch, it got worse.

But his alarm pushed those concerns to the side and he stood from his desk, closing his sketch book and padding around his small room, filling his bag with the necessary books for his classes today. He was soon dressed and freshened up, the dream almost forgotten as he was about to walk out of the door, when a thought popped into his head. He went back into his room, and slipped the sketchbook into his bag. Someone might be able to interpret it for him.

He was almost late to class, despite his early wake up, but he was glad to be in class. He didn’t like missing them, since he was paying out the ass just to be at university, but he also enjoyed his classes. It was always something he was interested in, myths and legends of the world even more so.

His professor walked in moments after Liam did, making her way to the lecture podium, setting up her computer, before the screen of her laptop was projected onto the wall for all to see.

And on the screen, almost as if mocking him, was an image of Yggdrasil, it’s trunk wrapped around a great chain, it’s roots buried in a ground of solid crystal.

“Now, class” their professor started the lesson, “who can tell me what this is?”

***

“Please, Professor Evan’s, I just want you to look at this for a moment” Liam asked his professor after the class had ended, sketch book in hand.

“And what would that be Liam?” she asked, taking the sketchbook from Liam and glancing down a the drawing on the page. It was the image of Yggdrasil from his dream. “It’s very interesting, Liam, but I hope you weren’t drawing this instead of taking notes today?”

She said it with a smile, but something about it made that itch at the back of his eyes grow stronger. But something inside him ached, like the teasing banter had opened up some old wound Liam didn’t know he had.

“No, I… that’s not what I meant professor” Liam stuttered out, hands flailing in an attempt to get his words out. “What I meant was that… I drew that this morning. I had a nightmare, involving this tree, and drew it before I came to class. And then you have the lesson all about Yggdrasil and… I just want to ask some questions, if that’s okay?”

A curious look crossed his professor face, before she sat down at the desk, her eyes locked to the page. “What questions?”

“What’s the chain?” Liam asked, the first question to come to mind.

“It’s the great chain of Olympus” Evans said in reply. “Meant to represent the balance of power between Olympus and the underworld. One end sat, tempered eternally in the flames of Olympus, the other nurtured in in a marsh in the centre of the underworld, where the waters of all five rivers converged.”

“But… I thought Yggdrasil was from Norse myths. Why would they be mixed?” Liam asked curiously.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories?” she asked, her eyes rising and locking onto Liam’s. The whites of her eyes seemed to flash gold for a moment, before they turned white again. “The gods roamed the earth, centuries ago. They did many wonderful things, some of them. But… many preferred to sit on their clouds and place bets on how many mortals died.

“But something happened. It’s… muddy, this part, because we don’t have a lot of records, but what we do know is that two mortals became gods. We don’t know how, they just… did. One was from the Norse Pantheon, the other from the Greek. This symbol-” she gestured to the drawing, “-was the symbol of their union.”

“You mean these two gods were… married?” Liam asked.

“Yes, very much so. And from what we can tell, they loved each other dearly. They weren’t like those on the Olympian council, that’s for sure.”

“So, then what happened to them? What happened to all the other pantheons? If they roamed the earth, why did they suddenly disappear?”

“Because there was a war, Liam” she said gently. “These two gods defied their joined pantheons and helped the mortals, and in-so-doing started a war that ended with their victory. But… the other gods didn’t like that. They pooled their power together and managed to kill one of them. And the surviving god… he went into a rage. Hunted down every last one of them and imprisoned them, somewhere. The other pantheons…They went into hiding at the first sign of conflict. As far as we can tell, the surviving one of the duo is the only god left, and he… well, no one has seen him in over a century.”

Liam contemplated what she had said, thanked her, took his sketch book back, and left.

He had lots to think about now.

***

_“Your task is the same. You will try to kill him, as you have always tried to kill him, and you will die.”_

The words carried through the air, but this time Liam was standing far enough back that the apparition could not reach him.

“What do you mean, I will kill him? Who will I kill?” Liam called out, the apparition in the red gem enraged that it could not reach Liam.

_“Your lover. Our betrayer. The one who has killed you more times than you can count.”_

Liam frowned, crouching down low on his feet. They were bare, pressed against the cool, yet at the same time warm, crystal beneath them.

“But I don’t have a lover.”

_“He is always your lover, whether you remember him or not. And he will always be the reason for your death.”_

This time, the apparition fully left the red gem, a ghostly red figure that towered over him, crackling lightning running up and down it’s limbs and back, almost like bones.

When its fingers wrapped around Liam’s throat, he did not scream, before all went black again.

***

When he woke this time, his head was throbbing, anger coursing through his veins. But his dream stayed crystal clear in his mind, a million thoughts running through his mind as to what these dreams could mean.

He was a lot more lethargic getting up this time. It had been a week since the last dream, and it had been a restless one. He hadn’t been able to sleep well, he hadn’t been able to do much without becoming exhausted. And what was worse was that his IED was playing up on him. He had no idea why, but it just seemed like he was having a bad week.

So, by the time he walked into class, he had snapped at no less than five people, literally growled at the barista who had made his coffee and made a little girl cry.

But even through that, he felt… hollow. Like something was off. Something was… missing. It had felt like that for as long as he could remember, but ever since the first dream a week ago… it had only gotten worse.

He sat down in his usual seat, a frown on his face and in a surly mood, when his professor walked in. She frowned at the look on his usually happy and excited face but set up her computer like she had every week and began the presentation.

When the class was finished, she dismissed them, but asked that Liam stay behind. He waited until the last student had left before he made his way over to her, a questioning look on his face.

Instead of speaking, she pulled out a small box from her bag, and handed it to him. “I want you to have this. It’s meant to help those in need.”

And then she left without another word.

Liam sat down and opened the box, revealing a simple necklace of string, with a carved wooden pendant, a small round disk that looked a lot like a shield and was covered in what looked to be a combination of Greek and Norse letters.

There was no note, which made Evans’ actions weirder, but he shrugged, pulling the necklace out of the box and slipping it over his head.

He went about the rest of the day as if nothing weird had happened.

***

_Green eyes peered at him through the crowd, as if locked to his by a magnet across the vast hall. The green of his eyes, much like his baby blues, were ringed in the gold of godhood._

_He didn’t like being here, amongst the revellers and partygoers. The other gods laughed and hooted, eating from the offerings left by their devoted followers, drinking from the kegs of ambrosia and blood mead that they themselves had made._

_Green eyes made his way through the crowds, twisting and turning, not once touching the other revellers as they danced and swayed, before finally, he was standing before him._

_“Why is such a beautiful young man such as your self-sitting all on your lonesome?” Green eyes asked, his eyes never leaving his own._

_“Not a big fan of parties like this” he answered, his eyes roving over the heads of the crowd. He stood suddenly, walking away from green eyes. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got somewhere to be.”_

_A hand grasped his wrist, and he turned to find Green eyes hand wrapped loosely around it. “Before you go, what’s your name?”_

_He thought over the last couple… was it hours? Days? Weeks? He looked down at the floor and the large, inlaid window in the marble, that looked over the realm of mortals. There was a town where just moments before there had only been open fields. How long had he been here?_

_When he spoke, he said “Odin’s saying my name is Tyr.”_

_“I know that” Green eyes said softly, eyes downcast. “Zeus has declared that I’m now called Hephaestus. But I meant your mortal name. I am right that you’re the other Ascended, right?”_

_“You would be correct” he said, his eyes coming up to meet the other mans. He paused for a moment before he said, “Liam. My mother called me Liam.”_

_Green eyes… Hephaestus beamed at him. “A wonderful name. My father named me Theo.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i should warn you, there is a graphic depiction of a violence at the end of this chapter. Be warned, in case you are sensitive to stuff like that.

Liam was unable to shake the feeling of dejavu from his dream the night before, unable to get the pretty face of Hephaestus out of his head.

Liam knew, for sure, that whatever these dreams were, they were not real dreams. They felt more like… memories. But he couldn’t shake the feeling like… he had been there. He’d woken up just before they had told each other their “mortal names”. Did gods _really_ need a name change if they ascended from being mortals? He supposed it was something that would have to happen, as he snorted into his coffee. Who would tremble in fear at the sight of the “All mighty John”? He shook his head as he strolled down the street, continuing to drink his coffee.

It was a crisp morning, a cold wind blowing in from the north, small eddies of snow blowing in along the breeze. He had class in the afternoon, and he wondered if Professor Evans was going to be there so he could ask about the necklace. He wore it now, the rough cord wrapped around his neck, the pendant resting against his chest beneath the layers of cloths he had on to fight back the cold.

He paused as he walked past a store front, lit up in bright red neon lights, despite the bright morning. He peered at the sign curiously, wondering what the place could be.

It turned out to be a tattoo parlour, the sign proudly saying it was called _Ouroboros Tattoos_ , art plastered across the windows of the shop for all to see. Curious, Liam walked in.

The store was empty, save for one woman, sitting behind a desk near the front of the store, looking as if she were bored, despite the early hour of the day.

“Good morning, young man” She said once Liam had shut the door behind him. “What can I do for you today?”

Liam looked around the store curiously, eyeing off the art spread across the walls. He looked back to the woman that had greeted him and smiled. “Good morning to you too. Not much, really. I just… this is the first time I’ve seen this store, and I’ve walked down this street every day for the past two years.”

“Yeah, well, that would be because we just opened today” the woman said with a smile. “If you’re lucky, you could be our first customer. I’ll even give you a discount, if you want.”

Liam shook off the feeling that something was off, like… he felt like he had seen this store abandoned just yesterday, barren and empty for months. But he shook his head of the thoughts, smiling back at the woman.

“I suppose I could. I’ve always wanted a tattoo” Liam said, shrugging his bag off his shoulder.

The qoman stood from behind the desk, moving to a shelf behind her full of sketch books, each one carefully marked and labelled. SHe turned back to Liam, eyeing him curiously. “Is there anything in particular your looking for? Swords? Dragons? Writing? Ancient Symbols?”

The last one caught Liams interest, and he nodded his head. “Ancient Symbols should be good, thanks.”

The woman nodded her head, hand skimming the books and pulling one off the shelf, before opening it and placing it in front of Liam.

“The names Friday, by the way” she said, leaning her arms against her side of the desk.

“Liam” Liam said in reply, his eyes never leaving the book.

And there was so many to choose from, it was almost unbelievable. Runes and glyphs merged together to make intricate patterns that astounded him. He recognised many from his classes, knowing them to be Greek or Norse, but others were harder to make out. Some he thought were Egyptian, others Chinese. Some he couldn’t tell if they were Mayan or Aztec, Navajo or Cherokee. He continued to flip through them, and found two that looked familiar, yet new at the same time.

“What are these ones meant to be?” He asked, pointing them out.

The first was that of a large Greek Omega. But it was a full circle, made to look like a snake wrapped in a circle, it’s tail and head looking like the two horizontal bits. It was a dark red, almost like wine, with what looked to be Norse runes etched into the circle. In the centre was another familiar symbol. That of the Valknut, the Norse threefold knot, in a dark blue, but it looked like it had been shattered.

The second was eight spokes, almost like that of a wheel, each spoke ending in different symbols.

“Ah, that’s easy” Friday said, turning the book towards her to have a proper look. “This first one was the joint Symbol of Tyr and Hephaestus. The Valknut was Tyr’s sigil, the Omega Hephaestus’s. It’s said they each had their respective sigil tattooed somewhere on their bodies when they met, and when they got married the other’s symbol was added.”

“But why is the Valknut broken?” Liam asked, curious.

“Do you not know what happened to Tyr?” Friday asked, looking at him curiously. When he shook his head, she sighed and said, “He was murdered, by those he had once called kin. Well… really, it was the Greek Pantheon that stood against him and Hephaestus. Historians say that we probably wouldn’t have gotten this far without their interference.”

“What do you mean by that?” Liam asked, a little dumbfounded. It looked like he needed to do some research.

“Look, I don’t really know much about history, to be quite honest” Friday said, a little exasperated. “I just know that Tyr was killed, and so I drew the Valknut to show that. Now, do you want to know what this other one is?” Liam nodded his head, and she smiled. “It’s called a Vegvisir. A Nordic compass. Travellers normally wore a necklace with this on it, as it was said to show them the way to their destination, even when it was not known.”

Liam nodded his head, giving it a little thought. They seemed familiar, and his thoughts went to the dream from last night. Tyr, shirtless and heavily muscled, every inch of him covered in tattoos. These two specifically had caught his attention, because he remembered seeing them on Tyr.

“Can I get both of them?” Liam finally asked, looking up at Friday.

“Of course. Where do you want them? If you haven’t got anything on today, I could probably do it all in one sitting, unless you want to do one now, and the other in a couple of days” she asked.

“I’ve got class this afternoon, so I’ll get the one done now and one done in a couple of days” Liam said. “Which would you suggest to get done first?”

“I’d go the vegvisir, since it’s only line work, and I can do it in about an hour” Friday said. “All I need to do is have you tell me where you want it and we can get started.”

***

_“What’s bothering you, Tyr?” Hephaestus asked as he strolled over to him, hefting his hammer over his broad shoulders. He was sweaty and covered in dirt, the light stubble on his cheeks and jaw making him look soft, just like Tyr liked._

_“Everything” Tyr said with a low growl, pacing back and forth through Hephaestus’s forge, as the latter brought the hammer down on the weapon he was forging. “We have all these powers, all this strength, yet we can’t_ do _anything. Everyone just sits around and gambles, intervening only when they deem it necessary, or when they want a little fun.”_

_Hephaestus didn’t answer immediately, bringing the hammer down on the white hot metal a few more times, before picking it out of the flames with his bare hands. It was something that fascinated Tyr, though was also rather expected. Hephaestus was the god of the forge and flames, of course he would be immune to that which was under his control._

_Tyr himself was still coming into the powers of his domain, and so was still trying to find out what he was immune to. Just yesterday he had been able to do what Hephaestus had done, but today he was unable to, his hands still healing from the bad burns._

_“It’s how things have always been though” Hephaestus said, startling Tyr from his thoughts as the former dropped the weapon into a trough full of water, the steam hissing up and filling the air. “At least, that’s what I’ve been told.”_

_“But why don’t Odin and Freya do anything” Tyr said, banging his fist down on a nearby table, making the objects resting on it rattle. “They’re the head of their own pantheon, why can’t they do anything.”_

_Hephaestus reached into the pool of water, hoisting out the weapon. It was still red hot, but a lot cooler than it was before. Not that Tyr would want to hold it right now. It would still be too hot for him. He walked over to the bench Tyr was sitting next to, placing it on the scarred surface, pulling a set of tools towards him and setting to work putting in the finishing touches._

_As he worked, he spoke. “It’s because of the war hundreds of years ago. At least, that’s what Athena has told me. There was a war between the Olympians and the Aesir. The Aesir fought alongside many of their sworn enemies, such as the Vanir and the Jotnar. But, it was not enough. The Olympians won the war, and the Aesir and their allies were forced to follow the ways of the Olympians. It’s why only Odin and Freya were present at our ascension. They’re the only ones who are allowed to travel to Olympus. Though, of course, you seem to be the exception.”_

_Tyr rolled his eyes, leaning against the table. “That’s stupid. I don’t see why we still can’t go down to the mortals and help them.”_

_Hephaestus sighed, pausing in his work for a moment. “Because Zeus has said we are not to intervene, unless we are to join in on his ‘fun’. It’s better just to sit back and do nothing.”_

_“But doing nothing makes us complicit” Tyr said fiercely, his blue and gold eyes glowing fiercely. A sudden chill filled the air, a light mist covering the floor. “I’ve been down to the mortals hundred of times, and every time I see the same thing. Death and destruction and chaos. Every time I come back here, decades pass without me even knowing it, and what little good I’ve been able to do is wiped out in a matter of moments. All because ‘Zeus wants some fun’. That’s not a good enough reason to treat mortals like shit.”_

_Hephaestus stood suddenly, towering over Tyr’s form, his green and gold eyes glowing in a powerful rage. “Do not speak such traitorous thoughts here, Tyr. If you do, you will not be welcome here.”_

_“Fine then” Tyr said, suddenly standing. “Your just like the rest of them. Selfish and only interested in yourself.” He marched towards the open doorway, standing still for a moment. “I thought you were different Hephaestus. I thought you would care, because you used to be mortal once.”_

_And then he was gone._

_Hephaestus felt… hollow inside, at the sudden loss of his friend. He was right of course, as always. But he turned back to the weapon he had been crafting, the steel now dull and black. He huffed, tossing the weapon into a pile of other blackened and ruined weapons. It was useless now._

_As he turned to leave the room, however, he noticed something for the first time. On the table, where Tyr had slammed his fist, a spidery web of burn marks radiated out from where his fist had landed. He gently stuck a finger out, poking the wood, flinching back in surprise._

_It had burned him, but that was wrong. Flame didn’t burn him. But it had burnt him, and he looked at the burning digit, curious._

_The finger was blue. As if it had been frozen._

***

The grove was silent this time, Yggdrasil silent and sombre, the split in its trunk revealing the large red gemstone and the rest of the great chain. But the sensation of eyes on him was greater than ever, and he knew he wasn’t alone.

“Where are you?” He muttered out, eyes searching the grove as he crept up towards ground, careful to stay as far away from the gem as possible.

“Right behind you” a voice said, startling Liam. He spun on his heel, finding a man standing where there had been no one just moments before, a smirk on his face. He was tall, gold ringed brown eyes set into a face covered in freckles. He had one arm behind his back, and he did a little bow, the other hand doing a little twirling motion. “You must be Liam. I’m Stiles. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Liam cocked his head to the side, curious. “Stiles?” he said, voice lilting. “I’ve never heard of you.”

“Well, that’s no surprise” Stiles said, smirk deepening. “You might know me better as Zeus, king of the gods.”

Liam took a step back, suddenly fearful. If he really _was_ standing in the presence of a god, he didn’t want to anger him and be too close.

“There’s no need to be afraid, Liam” Stiles… Zeus said, his lips turning down into a frown. “I’m only here to ask you something. Something only you can help me with.”

Liam didn’t step forward, but he would be lying if he didn’t say he was curious. “And what would that be?”

“It’s simple, really” Zeus said, stepping closer, the hand not clasped behind him rising up, palm facing the sky. A bolt of lightning light up the clearing, blinding Liam momentarily, quickly followed by a crack of thunder. When his sight was cleared, Zeus held a knife in his hand. “I want you to take this knife, and bury it in the chest of the traitor god.”

Liam knew all to well that there was going to be a catch. His class revolved al around how gods were selfish, especially the Olympians. Everything they ever did was for their own gain, and everything they asked mortals to do was always ended in betrayal and death.

“And if I were to say no?” Liam asked instead. If this dream were really real, he’d probably be dead.

As if in answer, lightning struck the ground in a perfect circle around him, sending up plumes of dirt.

“If you don’t do it, you will die” Zeus said, a menacing look to his eyes.

Still, something niggled in the back of his mind, something shouting at him that this was wrong, that he should get out of here as soon as possible.

But… he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. His thoughts had started to become slow and muddled, as if he were wading through a thick soup, and a fog had started to descend over his mind. His limb felt heavy and lifeless, his tongue thick and swollen, unable to form the words he wanted to say.

He felt himself moving, against his wished, walking closer to Zeus. He struggled as much as he could, but the heavy cloud over his mind prevented him from struggling much. It was as if he had become a bystander in his own body, and someone else were in control.

His body knelt down amongst the dead foliage, head raised as if in supplication towards Zeus. Liam’s lips moved of their own accord, a strangled sound coming out of his mouth before they started to form words in a harsh, guttural language that shouldn’t have been formed by a human mouth.

But he understood the words being spoken by whatever creature controlled him.

“What is thy bidding, my master?”

And Zeus smiled, as if everything were coming to plan.

***

Liam woke slowly, back aching, something hard digging in between his shoulder blades. He blinked his eyes open, finding himself sitting propped up against a wall in an alley, sitting next to a dumpster overflowing with trash. He wrinkled his nose at the smell but made no move to get away.

He yawned, stretching his back out against the wall, waiting for the satisfying pop of a vertebrae, before he lowered his arms, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and froze.

His hands were wet.

He pulled his hands away from his face, trying to get a glimpse of what coated his hands. He couldn’t see much in the dark, but the pale light of the moon reflected off his hands told him his hands were coated in something red.

He stumbled up, a gasp of horror escaping him as he realised his hands were coated in blood. He held his hands out as far away from him as he could, trying his best to keep them away from his clothes. But standing opened up his field of view, and he could see, just over the rim of the dumpster, a foot lying on the ground.

Just a foot, ending in a short stump of hacked off leg.

A feeling of dread filled Liam as he moved around the dumpster, and the sight that assaulted his eyes made him want to vomit.

 _Someone_ had been hacked to pieces, arms and legs hacked off and thrown around the alley way, the skin of the torso flayed and shredded. Liam was unable to tell if the victim… his victim, had been male or female. The head, lying a little further away, looked like it had been torn from the shoulders, the face covered in deep, heavy cuts that still oozed blood. The skull was bashed in, brain matter and blood spreading out in a horrifying picture.

Liam tried to look away from the torso, but he couldn’t help himself. The skin had been flayed, revealing the muscle and bone beneath. The intestines, stomach and liver had all been pulled out, arrayed around the torso in some sick display. The chest had been pulled apart, the lungs and heart pulled out and pinned to the wall at the end of the alley.

Words were painted along that wall, in drying blood, in some ancient script. Liam knew that he shouldn’t have been able to read it, but the words sprang to life in his mind, forming together into English.

 _You will kill him_.

Liam didn’t know what to do, but he did know that he couldn’t be caught any where near the mutilated body. And so, he ran, hands still coated in blood. He didn’t know where he would go, or what he would do. He just needed to run away from it all.

And in the back of his mind, a deep, booming laugh, like an echo of thunder, came to life, as if some grand plan had come to fruition.


	3. Chapter 3

_Tyr sat at The Edge, his feet dangling over the rim of the continent, his eyes searching the deep, unfathomable abyss that stretched out below him. Stars and nebulae, comets and planets, whole galaxies passed below him in a silent dance. The only sound the was the roaring of the great waterfalls of Asgard, the water tumbling down from the bottomless ocean, falling into the great abyss below, dissipating into mist._

_Tyr wondered what became of those mists. Did they travel the universe for eternity, falling to some distant planet and forming life? Did they merge to create some new star system? Or did it freeze in the cold vacuum of space, forming comets?_

_It was an interesting thought, but not something he would ever truly know. He supposed he could ask Mimir, or Odin, or maybe even Heimdall. They would all know. But he couldn’t bring himself to care._

_He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he jumped when a deep, commanding voice called out “I’d be careful if I were you Lord Tyr. None who have fallen into Ginnunga-gap have returned.”_

_Tyr turned, tucking one leg beneath him so his side was to the infinite abyss below, eyeing the tall, commanding man behind him._

_Heimdall was, upon first glance, intimidating. Tall and dark skinned, with a face always set into a grim mask of determination, he towered over Tyr. Clad in golden armour, a massive, horned helmet sitting atop his head and wielding a sword as big as Tyr was tall made for an imposing image._

_But what caught Tyr’s attention the most was Heimdall’s eyes. The sclera were the usual gold of a god, but so were the rest of his eyes. Solid gold orbs that rested in his head, he seemed to be able to see despite the lack of iris and pupil._

_“And how many exactly have fallen into Ginnunga-gap before, Great Heimdall?” Tyr asked, not bothering to move from his position. He liked the calm The Edge provided. Everyone seemed too scared of it to venture close, but Tyr found the silence comforting. Especially now._

_“Only a few” Heimdall replied, marching forward, his great sword, the key to the Bifrost, strapped across his back. He came to a standstill next to Tyr, feet planted shoulder width apart, the toes of his boots only just hanging over the Edge. “But each has fallen for an eternity, and each has never returned from their fate.”_

_Tyr contemplated Heimdall’s words for a moment, before he asked, “And how would you know this? How do you know they didn’t just die?”_

_Heimdall turned his golden gaze to Tyr, assessing him curiously. “Are you aware of what my appointed task is, little god?”_

_Tyr shook his head, looking away from Heimdall’s intimidating gaze, looking back out over the abyss. If he looked close enough, he could just see the branch of Yggdrasil that connected Asgard to the other realms. But despite the World Tree’s supposed size, it was all Tyr could see of the thing._

_“When I was born, I was gifted the task of guarding the Bifrost for all eternity, in the event that out enemies were to use it to storm Asgard” Heimdall said, his voice echoing out across the abyss. “It was a position I took gladly, despite knowing what my task would bring. I was gifted with sense and powers beyond my understanding at the time. You asked how I know that those men are still living, falling for an eternity? I can see them now, here them screaming and praying for help. That was the power I was bestowed when I took up this position. The ability to see and hear all, to be able to watch our enemies movements, and be able to prepare for when they will strike.”_

_Tyr thought over this information, processing it and assessing it to what he knew already. Something didn’t sit right with him though._

_“So, if you are able to see what our enemies are doing” Tyr began, slowly, almost questioningly. “Why is it that we lost the war against the Olympians?”_

_Heimdall let out a great sigh, finally moving for his standing position to sit beside Tyr._

_“That, little god, is my greatest failing” Heimdall said mournfully. “Someone was able to conceal their plans from my sight, and so we were unable to plan the attack accordingly. My only consolation is that we were able to seal off the bridge to Midgard before the Olympians won.”_

_They sat in contemplative silence for a few moments, before a thought came to Tyr._

_“Heimdall, you said the abyss was called Ginnunga-gap earlier” Tyr said, and when Heimdall hummed in agreement, he continued. “Where did it come from?”_

_“Oh, so you want to know the story of creation, do you?” Heimdall asked with a chuckle, shaking his head. But he waved his hand before Tyr could speak, holding it out palm up. An image swirled into existence over his open palm, a great disc, one side a land of fire and lava, the other freezing winds and ice. Right down the middle, in a perfectly straight line, was a bottomless abyss. “Before there was any living thing, there were only two Realms, Muspelheim and Niflheim. Between them sat Ginnungagap, where the freezing water of Niflheim and the raging fires of Muspelheim met. This was how it had been for millennia, the two realms divided by Ginnunga-gap, and we do not know how it was formed. Over the eons, this meeting of Fire and Ice eventually formed the other realms, Alfheim, Vanaheim, Niflheim, Asgard and so on. But still, there was no life._

_“Eventually, a being formed from the mists in Ginnunga-gap, creating Ymir, the first Giant. From him sprang all life, the gods, the dwarves, the elves, the frost giants. A war started up between the gods and the giants, for they were born to always be enemies. The gods eventually won, the giants skulking off to a newly formed Jotunheim, while the gods created Midgard.”_

_Tyr contemplated these words, looking out into the abyss below him._

_“And what of the Olympians?” Tyr asked, head tilted to the side in thought. “You said the gods sprang to life from Ymir? They believe that they were descended from Gaia and Ouranos.”_

_“Ah yes, earth and sky” Heimdall said, nodding. He too looked out on the abyss, lowering his hand, the image dissipating as he did. “That would be because they did.”_

_“But… that makes no sense” Tyr said, turning to look at Heimdall. “You just said that all life sprang from Ymir.”_

_Heimdall went to answer, but his mouth snapped shut, his head turning towards the Bifrost. “Another time, perhaps, little god” Heimdall said, standing from his seated position, Tyr quickly standing with him. “It seems like someone is here to see you.”_

***

“Friday” Liam cried, banging bloody fists against the door. “Friday, please, I need your help.”

The sound of locks being undone travelled through the wood, and then the door was being flung open, Friday standing there in a dressing gown and slippers. She gasped at the sight Liam made, arms coated to the elbow in dried and flaking blood, some on his face, and his clothes splattered all over. But she made no move to call the cops, instead pulling the scared and frightened boy inside, looking to either side before she shut the door.

“Christ, Liam, what happened?” she asked, a comforting hand on his back guiding him through the store and up a flight of stairs into the apartment above.

“I… I don’t know” Liam said, tears and snot running down his face as he hiccoughed. “All I know is I went to bed… I had a weird dream, and next thing I know I wake up in an alley after I’ve killed a guy.”

Friday nodded in acknowledgment, a firm hand lowering Liam down onto the couch as she bustled around the apartment, pulling out a bucket and an old cloth, filling the bucket with soap and water, before kneeling before the terrified boy, wetting the cloth and slowly beginning to clean him up.

There was a bang from further in the apartment and a door was flung open, an older man with salt and pepper hair and the beginnings of a beard stumbling out, groggy from sleep. He froze in the hall as he looked upon the sight of the two of them, Friday carefully cleaning the blood from Liam’s hands.

“By Ymir… Frigga, what in the nine realms is going on here” the man asked, voice rough and gravelly. One eye was covered by some of his long hair, enough so that it made Liam think he had only one eye.

“Not now, Odin. Mnemosyne had been… I don’t know what she’s been doing, but I think she is trying to help” Friday… Frigga, whatever her name was said, eyes never leaving Liam’s as she dabbed at his face, cleaning it of the blood that had dried there, wiping away the snot. “Get in contact with her now, she needs to be here.”

Liam looked between the two of them, Odin and… “Wait, Frigga? As in… wife of Odin, mother of Baldur? The queen of the Valkyries?”

Friday looked at him, the brown of her irises now swimming in golden sclera. But she nodded, continuing to dab at Liam’s face, before soaking the cloth in water and continuing to clean the blood from his arms.

“Yes, that would be me” she said, a sombre tone to her voice. “And yes, before you ask, that is my husband, Odin.”

“But… why are you here?” Liam asked, confused. “I thought you were all dead.”

Frigga laughed, shaking her head as she finished scrubbing his arms free of blood. “No, that was only the Olympians” she said, standing with the bucket in hand and pouring the dirty, bloody water down the drain, running the tap to get rid of what was left in the sink. “Ragnarok was… well, it certainly wasn’t how we were expecting it, that’s for sure.”

Liam opened his mouth to say something, but a knock at the door brought their attention from the conversation.

“It’s just me Frigga, can you let me in” a familiar voice echoed through the wood of the door, and up the stairs. Liam perked up, curious as Frigga motioned for him to stay put, walking down the stairs and opening the door.

Liam listened as the two women greeted each other, Frigga closing the door quickly behind their guest as they made their way back up the stairs. When they got to the top of the stairs and Liam was able to see who it was, he blurted out “Miss Evans? Why are you here?”

She seemed shocked at Liam’s presence, but smiled at Liam all the same. “I see you’ve started remembering, Liam. That’s good.”

“Remembering? Remembering what?”

She frowned, taking off her coat and settling down in an armchair across from Liam, Frigga coming to sit beside him. Odin walked in from… wherever he had gone, putting the kettle on and pulling out a bottle of beer for himself.

“You haven’t remembered a lot apparently” she said, folding her hands delicately in her lap, staring at Liam intently. And then he noticed something odd. Her sclera were solid gold, making her… purple eyes glow with an eerie light. “Are you still wearing that pendant I gave you?”

Liam nodded, fishing the pendant out from under his shirt, but was stopped from taking it off. “Keep it on, it will only help” she said, moving to kneel in front of Liam. Odin moved to sit in another arm chair, a tray piled with mugs and a steaming pot of tea in his hands. “Now, I want you to close your eyes and think very carefully.” Liam did as he was told, jumping slightly as he felt her hands gripping his forehead lightly. “You feel… hollow inside, don’t you? As if you’ve been missing something your whole life?”

Liam nodded, muttering out a quiet “yes” that echoed in the now silent room.

“I want you to focus on that feeling, Liam. No matter how… bad it gets, keep focusing on it, okay?”

Liam nodded again, focusing on the feeling of hollowness that he had buried down deep. He’d had it for as long as he could remember, and nothing he did could fill that empty void. As if… what ever he was missing was not of this earth.

The fingers at his temples started to warm up, slowly rubbing in circles, as he continued to delve into the darkness, and then suddenly he felt like he was falling, falling through an infinite blackness, one that never ended. Images flashed past him, images of a forge, of a blinding smile, a handsome man. Images of partygoers and revellers, of fires burning, of battles fought.

But that same man that smiled at him… he saw, countless times, as he lived and he died, hunting down this man, dying at his hand. But… despite the countless deaths at this mans hands, that feeling of longing dwindled slightly, the hollow feeling in his chest disappearing as he remembered this man that he loved.

When he opened his eyes, he was smiling, memories he didn’t know he had clicking into place as he smiled at the woman in front of him.

“Hello Mnemosyne. Long time no see” he smiled at her, and Frigga squealed beside him, clapping her hands.

“He remembers” she said, excitedly bouncing in the chair beside him.

“He does” Mnemosyne said, looking over Liam. “But unfortunately, he is still mortal. And still very much cursed.”

***

_“What do you want Theo?” Liam asked, his feet dragging along the rainbow bridge to the Gate house._

_“I… I wanted to apologise” he said, one hand coming up to scratch at his neck in nervousness. “I… I realised I was an idiot. You were right, you were always right of course.”_

_Liam smiled, walking over and wrapping Theo in a hug. “It’s okay Theo, I know you didn’t mean it.”_

_“It’s not okay” Theo said, pulling away. “I really am sorry for what I said, and I wanted to make it up to you.”_

_“You don’t have to” Liam said, but Theo shook his head, holding his hand out, a flash of light blinding Liam momentarily before he blinked his eyes a couple of times, revealing what Theo had in his hands. “Theo… you didn’t make this, did you?”_

_It was a sword, one almost as long as Liam was tall, the pommel and guard made of intricate, swirling patterns of gold, runes of Greek and Norse etched along the blade. It hummed with an energy that was… otherworldly, one that seemed to be searching for a master._

_“Of course I did” Theo said, holding the blade out to Liam, the blade resting in his palms. “You were… without a Weapon of Power, and well… I figured it would be good for you to have one.”_

_“But I don’t even know what I’m the god of yet” Liam said taking a hold of the blade almost reverently._

_“That’s beside the point. You need something to help you control your powers and… I thought it would be helpful” Theo said, nervous again, rubbing his hand up and down his arm._

_Liam stared at the blade in awe, unable to keep the smile off his face. “Thank you, Theo. This means a lot to me. It really does.”_

_He held the blade to his side as he stepped forward, pulling Theo into a hug, one that Theo was quick to return, holding him tightly._

_Liam almost missed it, but he just heard Theo mutter, “I missed you, Liam.”_

_And if he hugged Theo even tighter in response, no one else was to know._


	4. Interlude 1: The Creation of Earth and the Olympians.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this one is a little different, in that... i've retyped up a Norse myth and replaced the names with those from TW, and then sumarised the myth of creation from the Greeks, and kinda... smashed them together.  
> I have Janna to thank for this, who helped me decide on doing this, and everyone else who is interested in the myths.

Sing to me, oh muse, daughters of great and mighty Zeus, of the tale of creation and the birth of the Olympians. Whisper to me, great Odin, of how you built the earth upon which we stand, of how you slew great Ymir and created the earth from his corpse. Tell me of how the Giantess Gaia birthed the Titans, and how they, too, birthed the Gods.  
***  
Ymir’s body was carried by Peter and his brother’s to Ginnungagap, where it was placed in the centre. His flesh became the earth, and his Skeleton the rocky crags which dipped and soared. From the soil sprang the dwarfs, spontaneously, and they would soon be put to work. Ymir’s teeth and broken bones became rocks and pit covering the earth, and his blood was cleared to become the seas and the water that flowed across the land. The three men worked hard on the body of Ymir; his vast size meant that even a days work would alter the corpse only slightly.  
Ymir’s skull became the sky and at each cardinal point of the compass was placed a dwarf whose supreme job it was to support it. These dwarfs were Nordri, Sudri, Austri and Westri, and it was from these brave and sturdy dwarfs that the terms North, South, East and West were born. Ymir’s hair created tree’s and bushes.  
The brow of Ymir became walls which would protect the gods from all evil creatures and in the very centre of these brows was Midgard, or ‘middle garden’, where humans could live safely.  
Now, almost all of the giants had died with the death of Ymir, drowned by his surging blood – all, that is, except Bergelmir, who escaped in a boat with his wife and sought asylum at the edge of the world. Here, he created a new world, Jotunheim, or the home of the Giants, where he set about the creation of a whole new breed of giants who would carry on his evil deeds.  
Peter and his brothers had not yet completed their work. As the earth took on it’s present form, the slaved at Ymir’s corpse to create greater and finer things. Ymir’s brains were thrust into the skies to become clouds, and in order to light this new world, they secured the sparks of from Surtr’s sabre and dotted them amongst the clouds. The finest sparks were put to one side, and they studded the heavenly vault with them; they became like glittering stars in the darkness. The stars were given positions; some were told to pass forward, and then back again in the heavens. This provided seasons, which were duly recorded.  
The brightest of the remaining stars were joined together to become the sun and the moon, and they were sent out into the darkness in gleaming gold chariots. The chariots were drawn by Arvakr (the early waker) and Alsvin (the rapid goer), two magnificent white horses under whom were placed balls of cool air which had been trapped in great skins. A shield was placed before the sun, so that her rays would not harm the milky hides of the steeds as they travelled into the darkness.  
Although the moon and the sun had now been created, and they were sent out on their chariots, there was still not distinction between Night and Day.  
But while Peter and his brother’s were looking for a way to distinguish the differences between Night and Day, over in Jotunheim, a great evil was stirring.  
For Bergelmir’s wife had given birth to a daughter, the great giantess known as Gaia, or earth, who slew her parents when she was but a few moments old and travelled to Midgard. The walls Peter and his brothers had set up were not match for the power of the earth itself, for they fell before her trembling steps.  
Gaia gave birth to a son, Ouranos, or sky, one who could be her equal, with whom she had many great and terrible children. Three times they made love, and three times a new form of evil was brought into this world. First came the Hecatonchieres, the hundred handers, three great and terrible giants who could flatten the very mountains themselves. Ouranos, who despised the Hecatonchieres, imprisoned them deep within Tartarus. The second was the Cyclope’s, one eyed giants who could work craft the finest weapons and armour. Again, Ouranos despised his children, and again imprisoned them deep within Tartarus with their siblings.  
Finally, the Titans were born. Oceanus, Koios and Kreios and Thea and Rhea and Mnemosyne. After them came the youngest, the crooked schemer Kronos, most fearsome of Gaia’s children, who loathed his lusty father.  
Centuries passed, and Ouranos continued to lay upon Gaia. Gaia grew to hate her lover, and turned to her children for help, producing a sickle, made of cruel adamant.  
“Children of min and an evil father, I wonder whether you would do as I say? We could get redress for your fathers cruelty.”  
All of Gaia’s children were petrified with fear for their wicked father, and so none of them uttered a word. But great crooked schemer Krono took the sickle from his mothers grasp, and soon replied, “I am not afraid of our unspeakable father. I will do as you ask of me, mother.”  
Soon, when great Ouranos came to bed Gaia once more, Kronos sprung forth in ambush, wielding the cruel sickle made of adamant his even crueller mother had given him. He swiped at his father mercilessly, severing his genitals from his body, and hurled them into the raging sea. Where they landed a great sea foam formed, and soon, the great goddess Allison stepped forth, and where she stepped, flowers and grass grew.  
With his father unmanned, and having done the deed, Kronos was crowned king of the Titans, and married his sister, Rhea, with whom he had six resplendent children.  
However, before their first child was to be born, Kronos was met by the great Norns, the sisters of fate.  
“Son will kill father” the three wise women had said. “Yes, that is true. The son will overthrow the father, just as you overthrew your father. As it was, so it shall be.”  
Furious with this turn of events, Kronos, wicked schemer that he is, came up with a plan. As Rhea gave birth to each of their children, he swallowed them whole, ensuring that he would remain the sole ruler of the Titans.  
But Rhea was just as wicked a schemer as her brother-husband and conspired against him. When she gave birth to her sixth and final child, the great god Stiles, she replaced him with a rock and squirrelled the baby Stiles away to be raised upon the island of Crete. Kronos ate the stone, believing it to be has new born son, and had no further children.  
Years passed, and Stiles grew to be a powerful god, raised knowing that his brothers and sisters had been eaten by their cruel and wicked father. And when it was time for Stiles to fight his father, he made he and great Gaia tricked wicked Kronos, who brought his children back up, alive and whole.  
Scott, Lydia, Melissa, Kira and Matt were brought back up, along with the stone Kronos had swallowed in Stiles’ stead.   
Soon, a great war, known as the Titanomachy, broke out between the fledgling gods and the Titans. Many of the Titans fell, and when the tides of war turned in the Olympian’s favour, many turned sides and joined the Olympians.  
Scott, Matt and Stiles brought down mighty Kronos, and chopped up his body with his own wicked, adamant sickle, and threw the pieces deep into Tartarus. They freed the Cyclopes and Hecatonchiers, who joined them in building their seat of power atop Mount Olympus.  
It wasn’t long before Peter and his brothers and other brethren soon found the new born gods and self-proclaimed rulers of Midgard, and a war broke out between the Aesir and the Olympians.  
***  
Fare thee well, oh muse, who live on mighty Olympus, singing their great songs to the gods, of the tales of creation. Farewell great Odin, who sits in his mighty hall in Valhalla, surrounded by the slain dead, nursing a mug of Ale as he east and he fights.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not much, i know. But i've gotten into a bit of a funk lately, and this was all i could write. So not much happens, but there is a lot more to come.

“What do you mean, he’s still cursed?”

Frigga looked between Liam, Mnemosyne and Odin curiously. Mnemosyne shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m the Titan of Memory, Frigga, not the Titan of Curses” she said, and Liam couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, one that Odin joined in on.

“I like him” he said, taking a swig of his beer. “I always did like you, Tyr.”

Liam smiled shyly, ducking his head as Odin chuckled.

“You always were a shy one, despite your domain” Odin said, reaching over and gripping Liam’s shoulder tightly. “But, unfortunately, Mnemosyne is right. You are still cursed, Tyr. And until the curse is removed, you will be unable to become immortal again.”

Liam nodded, sitting up straighter as he looked Odin in the eye.

“So, how do we lift the curse than?” he asked, looking Odin in his one, visible eye.

“There aren’t many ways, to my knowledge” he said after a moments silence. “But… there is someone who might know a way.”

“Who?” Liam asked, at the same time Frigga groaned.

“Please don’t tell me it’s who I’m thinking it is?” she said softly, staring into her empty mug.

“Do we have much of a choice?” Mnemosyne asked. “I know he isn’t exactly your favourite person, but you have to agree, he might know how to lift the curse.

Liam looked between the three of them, his mind abuzz with images and memories as he tried his best to think of who they could be talking of.

“Who exactly are we talking about?” he asked, garnering the attention of the three gods.

“Mimir” Odin said softly, and before he could say anything else, Liam was assaulted by a flash of memories.

***

The freezing winds tore through his robe, biting winds chilling him to the bone. His feet were buried in the snow, snow and ice seeping into his boots and melting. He could barely feel his feet as he walked, and the warnings he had grown up with, to keep wiggling his toes, had become useless by this point.

He buried one hand deep in the pockets of his robe, the other outstretched as he kept a ball of flame alight, despite the harsh winds and biting snows. It was probably the only thing that kept him from freezing at this point, the red light flickering and fluttering with the breeze.

He kept walking for what seemed like an age, the snow and wind blinding him. He couldn’t see very far ahead, and when he looked up, he couldn’t see the stars. At the moment, it seemed like he was going to join the sky gods, as he had eerily accurate instincts telling him that it was the middle of the day, despite the fact that it had remained dim and dark for days.

Almost without warning, he took another step, and he was suddenly no longer standing in the middle of the raging blizzard, and instead standing in the middle of a clearing. The blizzard seemed to flow around the clearing, as if it were warded against the weather. If what Tyr knew of the realm was correct, these blizzards were constant, and these wards would need to be perfect to withstand the biting winds.

The clearing was empty, bar a simple log cabin sitting beside an ordinary stone well. Except, Tyr knew it wasn’t ordinary. One side of the stone rim was crumbled and decayed, the water streaming out, snaking it’s way around the cabin, before it passed by Liam’s right and back out into the blizzard. Despite the winds, the water never froze, and it had been this stream that Tyr had followed to get here.

The only other thing of note in the clearing was the tree the cabin backed on to. Well, tree wasn’t exactly what Tyr would have called it. A root was what it really was. This very root was one of three, the roots of the World Tree, that connected the realms of Jotunheim, Asgard and Midgard to the other six realms. The root plunged deep into the well, right down the centre, going further than Tyr could see.

The door to the cabin opened as Tyr walked through the protected clearing. A dark skinned man stood in the doorway, silhouetted by a roaring fire and wearing an assortment of animal skins to protect himself from the cold. He was bald, with a thin goatee on his chin, and his eyes had the familiar golden sclera of a deity. But his irises were prismatic, flitting between the colours of the rainbow, and glowing with their own, internal light.

“Lord Tyr, it is good to see you” the man said, nodding his head in greeting. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Tyr came to a stop before the man, looking him up and down curiously.

“We have never met before” he said instead of answering the man’s question. “How do you know me?”

“Ah, that is easy” the man said with a smile, arms outstretched. “If you were the guardian of Mimir’s well, you too would know all.”

“So… if you are the guardian of the well, then you must be the famed Mimir” Tyr said, arching an eyebrow.

“Aye, that would be me” the man said with a smile.

Mimir turned and walked inside the little cabin, Tyr following in behind him and closing the door. The inside of the cabin was cramped, bottles lining the walls, a fire pit in the centre and a bed pressed against a wall. The haunches of some animal Tyr could not recognise slowly turned over the fire, the smell of cooking meat and fat filling the small space.

Mimir sat down on a stool next to the fire, patting one next to him, which Tyr took with a silent thank you.

“So, what is it that you want of me?” Mimir asked, turning to face Tyr. “Not just everyone braves the cold wastes of Jotunheim to see me.”

“I’ve been told I could come to you seeking knowledge” Tyr said.

Mimir nodded, reaching down to pick up a large beaker full of mead. He filled a mug with the warm brew, holding it out to Tyr in a silent question. Tyr shook his head, before Mimir raised the mug to his lips and sculled half the mug in one sitting.

“Ah, that’s good stuff” Mimir said, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “But yes, I can provide knowledge, but it will cost you.”

“I think you misunderstand me” Tyr said. “I do not wish to be all knowing like you, or Lord Odin. I merely wish for an answer to a question.”

“Well, ask away dear boy” Mimir said, slapping his knee. “What do you wish to ask me?”

There was a moment of silence, as Tyr thought about how best to phrase his question.

“How do I bring about Ragnarok?”

***

“Liam, are you with us?” someone asked, fingers snapping in front of his face.

He blinked his eyes a few times, gathering his bearings as he shook his head. He was sitting on the same couch as before, surrounded by Frigga, Odin and Mnemosyne. Frigga stood before him, one hand resting on his shoulder, and the other was brushing loose strands of hair from his face.

“Is everything okay honey? What happened?” she asked, a soft, tender smile gracing her lips.

“I was… remembering something” he said softly, closing his eyes and thinking back to what he’d remembered. Had he really asked Mimir about how to start Ragnarok? Did that mean he was Odin and Frigga’s enemy? And hadn’t Frigga mentioned something about Ragnarok?

He shook his head slightly, ridding himself of those thoughts. If he really were their enemy, they wouldn’t have brought him back, right? And Frigga had said that Ragnarok hadn’t gone as planned, so maybe he was still missing something.

“That would be expected” Mnemosyne said, and Liam cocked his head to the side at her words. “Your memories coming back. I couldn’t just… give you your memories. At least, not all of them. So I merely removed the block that was in place. You’ll go into trances like you just did, when you need to remember something.”

“Oh, okay then” Liam said softly, taking a sip of his tea. He gagged on the drink, sticking his tongue out. It was much too bitter than what he was used to.

“So, what were you remembering?” Mnemosyne asked sweetly, leaning forward and gripping his knee tightly.

“When I first met Mimir” Liam said. “And… there’s a few others there too. Like… Mimir teaching me how to harness my powers. How best to help mortals… uh, that’s it so far. I haven’t remembered anything else.”

“It’s okay” Odin said gruffly, standing from his arm chair. He stood there for a moment, silently, his eye closed, a faint glow surrounding his hands at his side, before it died off. “I’ve just sent the Hunt out to look for him. He should be found in a few hours, and then we can get his help.”

“But he’s been in hiding since before Ragnarok came” Frigga said, turning on her husband. The sound of wings rustling, as if in anger, filled the room, but Liam was unable to find the source. “Sending the Hunt after him will be useless, just as it has been the last few centuries. When that man goes into hiding, he wont come out of hiding unless he wants to.”

“Mimir will be found, and then we can go back to Asgard once he’s helped us” Odin said fiercely as he scowled at her.

“But Heimdall hasn’t let anyone into Asgard since Ragnarok, Odin. You know that” Frigga shouted back, just as fiercely. The sound of wings rustling was louder now, and Liam thought he saw wings on her shadow. “Mimir wont fix everything.”

“I know. But Tyr will” Odin said, his single eye boring into Liam’s. “Once he’s immortal again, he’ll be able to help us. The bridge to Asgard will be open again.”

Liam looked between the two gods, both of whom seemed on the verge of attacking each other. He moved to intervene, when Mnemosyne stepped in.

“Will you two stop bickering for once in your lives, and actually help? Liam needs our help, now more than ever, and you’re just going to confuse him” she said, pushing them apart. “He needs rest. It’s been a long night, and he needs time to from everything. You…” she pointed a finger at Odin “… keep the Hunt on the lookout for Mimir, we’ll need him as soon as possible. And you, Frigga, you go and set up a room for Liam to stay in. If what I’ve been told is true, he wont be safe on his own, not with the police on his trail.”

There was a pause, before both Odin and Frigga nodded. Mnemosyne smiled, and Frigga left the room, coming back a moment later with her arms laden high with sheets and a few pillows.

“Liam, come with me. I’ll show you where you’re going to sleep” she said, smiling at him with that motherly smile from earlier.

Liam nodded, bidding the others good night. He followed Frigga into the room she’d gone into, just as she had finished making the bed up for him.

“This should do for now. In the morning, we can take you to your apartment and grab anything you might need” She said, smoothing down a non existent crease. “I’ll uh… I’ll leave you be.” She got to the door, one hand on the handle as she looked back at Liam over her shoulder. “Good night Liam.”

“Night Frigga” Liam said softly, before she shut the door.

He was quick to strip down to his boxers, slipping under the covers. It was warm, a change from the cool air outside. He thought he would never get to sleep, with all the questions he had bouncing around in his head, but the moment his head hit the pillow, he was out cold.


End file.
